A weekend to remember

This is a story of stench and stink. A story to put all others before it to shame. And it involves, of course, my loveable little boy, Caleb.

It all started on an unassuming Saturday afternoon. Jonathan was home from work on a break and we were watching TV. It seemed to be progressing as a typical day for us, and I must admit, my normal "mothering gaurd" was shamefully down. Relaxed and unalert, I ignored the alarming "sound of silence" echoing from my normally rambunctious little boy. And it wasn't until it was too late that I finally tuned in to the disaster. Glancing down from the set, I observed a funny expression on my sons face. In fact, he looked duly disgusted by something or another. Still not too concerned, I casually continued my 360 degree sweep of both my son and the surrounding area. It was then that I saw something brown and sticky hanging from his chin. My immediate thought, 'it must be brown banana or something'. And I nearly passed it off as being nothing. Nearly, that is, until my haphazard brain put two and two together. Grimacing in disbeleif, I put my nose a little closer to my little cherubs face to confirm my horrifying suspicion... and alas, I was right. In the span of a mere five minutes, and sitting on the floor right within both Jonathan and my view, Caleb had managed to fill his pants. He had then proceeded to stick his hands inside his diaper, and smear the offending party all over his legs and arms and the carpet. But did it stop there? Of course not. Being the curious little boy he is, he felt the compelling urge to taste this new substance he had so charmingly discovered, thus explaining the disgusted look on his face. Both horrified and helplessly amused, I was forced to give an early bath, and oh, what a mess that was.

With a clean little boy and still a semblance of an evening left before bedtime, it was only a couple hours later that I made my next colossal mistake. Caleb has had a bad teething rash and thus I decided to let him roam 'diaper free'. With avoidance echoing in my mind, I decided to put him outside for this momentous occassion. Rightly so, for it was not more than 5 minutes later when he proceeded to urinate on the deck, stick his hand in it, and lick it. All I can say is that the bath got a good run that Saturday. You'd think I would have learned my lesson, but only a couple of days later, with the rash still glaring at me from beneath Caleb's soggy diaper, I decided to yet again, let him run about diaper free... in the house. After taking off his diaper, I went to talk to Jonathan for a mere minute (no exxaggeration necessary), and realizing that Caleb was once again too quiet for comfort, said I had better go and check on him. And... wait for it... (this is becoming way too predictable) there was the fresh stench of my sons fecal matter, in three heaps on the carpeted floor, with footprints and handprints leading a trail of disaster throughout the livingroom, smeared on the television, his books, our movies, the couch! You name it, he smeared himself on it. This time was a little less amusing, a little more disgusting. The carpet shampooer got a little bit of excersize that day.

You may be wondering if I have now managed to learn my lesson. And I believe I have. The next time I am out with other mothers and they see my sons red bum, I am sure they will tell me I should "air it out". However, no matter what anyone says, this kid aint naked unless he is in the tub! Amen.